


Three Tails of Terror

by Raccoonfg



Series: Tails of Terror [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Candy, Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, Horror, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonfg/pseuds/Raccoonfg
Summary: When the lights go out on Halloween night at Bogo's apartment, everyone is left with no other option than to while away the time trading ghost stories.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The following short story was written for /trash/'s Thematic Thursday event; Halloween (10/27/16)

“They’re coming to get you, Baarbaara!” Johnny bleated at his sister in a teasingly creepy voice.

“Stop it!” Barbara snapped back at her gawky ram of a brother. It was bad enough that they had to come to this eerie graveyard; did he have to mock her nervousness too?

“They’re coming for you, Baarbaara!” Johnny pressed on. A maliciously gleeful smile was plastered on his face as he started to lope towards her, hooves held out like he was reaching out to grab her.

“Stop it! You’re acting like a child!”

“They’re coming for you!” Johnny suddenly pounced on her shoulders and jabbed a hoof in the direction of another cemetery guest in the distance. Oddly this mammal was indeed shambling about unusually; perhaps drunk. “Look, there comes one of them now!”

“He’ll hear you!” Barbara hissed at her brother, twisting her shoulders from his grasp.

“Here he comes now!” Johnny chuckled, maintaining the charade. “I’m getting out of here!”

Just as Johnny broke away from his sister, pretending to flee in terror, a previously unseen figure lunged out from the shadows, attacking Johnny. Barbara could only scream in terror as her brother was throttled savagely by a dead-eyed alpaca, when all of a sudden--

Everything went completely dark.

 

* * *

 

“Aw, c’mon!”

“Ugh, just when it was getting good.”

“Hey…who…turned…out…the…lights?”

“That’s the third time the power’s gone out this week,” Bogo grumbled as he carefully rose from the couch, trying his best to not tread on anyone in the darkness.

“Hey, uh, Chief?” The sardonic voice of Nick piped up from the right end of the couch, and suddenly his red face lit up like a disembodied head, illuminated by the light of a cell phone held under his muzzle. “Were you planning on warning us about this sometime, or did you figure it’d be a fun surprise for a Halloween movie night?”

“Shut it Wilde,” Bogo grunted, snatching the phone from the fox’s paw and turning the light around on his view of the couch, revealing Nick and Judy sitting next to the empty spot that Bogo previously occupied, and Clawhauser on the left end. “If I recall correctly, it was you who insisted that the task of hosting this little party should be left to me.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you have the biggest place,” Nick countered. “Where else were we going to do this? At the broom closet Judy calls home?”

“Hey!” Judy took immediate offense at the remark and flicked a piece of candy-corn at Nick’s cheek.

“Or hang out at Clawhauser’s with his mom?”

“Um, she’s just staying over while her place is being fumigated,” Clawhauser sheepishly interjected, “I, uh… I don’t live with my mom.”

“Sure. And forget about McHorn’s.”

“Still getting hell from the wife after having you guys over for that Labor Day barbecue,” the rhino muttered aloud from the armchair next to the couch; his horned face was now dimly lit by his own phone as he passively tapped and flicked at the screen.

“Still sorry about that hedge catching fire, big guy,” Nick called over. “So you see, it was you or nothing.”

“Ugh. Well what about your place?” Bogo asked as he stepped over the sloth that was sitting cross legged in front of the couch and made his way towards the kitchenette to get some candles.

“He lives with his mom too,” Judy playfully chimed in, causing Nick to dive his paw into the bowl of candy-corn and fling a barrage at her in retaliation.

“Oi, don’t mess up my living room!” Bogo bellowed.

“Seriously, it’s only temporary,” Clawhauser quietly reiterated as he unwrapped a fun-size candy bar and slipped it into his mouth. “I don’t live with my mom.”

“Sure. So how long do these outages usually last?” Nick asked as Bogo returned with a half dozen candles that he proceeded to set up on the coffee table.

“Could be an hour, could be several.” Bogo struck a match and started lighting the wicks. “Depends on how soon the building super checks the fuse-box.”

After the last candle was lit, he blew out the match and nodded with satisfaction, finally able to see everyone properly again.

“So, as movies are out of the question for now, how about a game of Moonopoly?”

“Boo!”

“Lame.”

“I’ll…be…the…boot.”

“Well I don’t see what other options we have, other than sitting around and chatting…”

“No!” Judy sprung up from her seat and bounced excitedly on the couch, toppling the bowl of candy-corn all over the floor, much to the dismay of Bogo. “That’s the best option!”

“Having a candlelit pow-wow?” Nick sarcastically asked, brushing sugary kernels off his shirt.

“Better.” Judy was grinning from ear to ear. “Ghost stories!”

Everyone in the room seemed to pause in unison, considering the now obvious answer Judy just gave. It was, after all, Halloween; why not trade spooky stories in the dark?

“Alright Fluff, it’s your bright idea, so you should go first. And, uh, you better come up with something quick before Flash launches into The Hooked Hitchhiker. Trust me; it’s a real ‘slow burner’.”

Almost as if on cue, Flash started to very slowly clear his throat and begin his recital.

“It…was…a…dark…night…at…make…out…point-- MRPH!”

Flash’s intro was cut short by Nick swiftly cramming a lump of pink and blue candy into the sloth’s mouth and holding it shut.

“Hey Flash, old buddy, howzabout you try Finnick’s homemade saltwater taffy?” Nick then hissed back to Judy, “Seriously Carrots, start now or this’ll be the first and last story of the night.”

“Yes Hopps,” Bogo plunked himself back between Judy and Clawhauser, folding his arms skeptically, “I’m curious to hear what you can come up with.”

“Oh ho,” Judy smirked mischievously. “I don’t have to ‘come up’ with anything. This is a true story.”

“Sure.” Nick released Flash’s maw, certain that the sloth’s jaw was glued shut, and returned to his seat. “Happened to a friend of a friend, right?”

Still smirking, Judy shook her head.

“Nope, happened to me when I was ten, on a Halloween night like tonight…”

 

* * *

 

Trick or treating in Bunnyburrow can be a little overwhelming for most houses, what with having dozens and dozens of kits per household still at the age where you dress up and go around collecting candy, so most rabbit families like mine send their kids out in smaller groups throughout the night to make things easier on everyone.

It was on this night that I drew the short straw and was part of the last wave; just six of us, led by my older sister Violet.

Besides her and me, there was my litter brother Bud, younger brother Jeffy, and his litter sisters Tilly and Dot.

Violet was usually pretty good about acting as chaperone whenever Mom and Dad needed help watching the kits, but she was getting to be a bit old for trick or treating this year.

“But Mooom, all the ZBC shows are doing Halloween specials tonight and Ethel an’ Tina invited me to come over so we could watch them together. This is so unfair!”

The witch costume she wore that night was appropriate.

…Yes Nick, I was dressed as a cop. Shut up.

So, in the vain hopes of wrapping up everything as soon as possible, Violet escorted, or should I say herded, us from house to house as quickly as she could; rushing us off each and every porch the very second candy hit our sacks.

And while it’s easy to think a bunch of rabbits can move pretty fast when they want to, the burrows is still in the country, and some houses were blocks and blocks away from each other, and Violet knew that if we didn’t hit every home that our other brothers and sisters got to visit, she’d get heck from us and our parents.

If sacrifices couldn’t be made, then shortcuts were the only option.

“We’re not supposed to be here after dark, Violet,” Bud whined from within his cardboard robot costume. “Mom and Dad says we’re supposed to stay off Potter Drive at night.”

“Yeah!”

“That’s right!”

Tilly and Dot were quick to chime in, while Jeffy kept silent and held my paw tightly; he was more afraid of the dark than our parents getting upset about disobeying them.

But Violet wouldn’t listen. She knew that she was already going to miss the first show and this detour would avoid nearly twenty minutes of walking around the more well-lit road.

“Oh it’ll be fine, we’re just cutting through to get over to the Courser family farm.”

Potter Drive was an unpaved road that ran between the back ends of the farms in our area, and on a night like that Halloween, the only light for yards came from the moon itself.

We were almost near the part of the road that connected to the Courser’s rear driveway when Violet stopped dead in her tracks, causing the rest of us to bump into her like a jumbled train.

“Do you hear that?” Violet asked, and at first neither me nor my other siblings knew what she was talking about, but a moment later we all heard the noise she picked up.

Someone was crying.

Being the expert listeners that we rabbits are, the lot of us bent and twisted our ears around in the air, carefully following the source of the crying.

As my father would say, the tension was thicker than sugar beet molasses, and each and every one of us held our breaths in anticipation of what sort of horror movie monster could be making such a sorrowful sound.

Eventually the endless sobbing led us to a cluster of bulrushes that grew along the roadside ditch, and sitting next to them was a little rabbit, wearing a ghost costume made out of a white bed sheet.

The sight was so relieving, you could have heard us all exhale from miles away.

Any past need to hurry up and keep moving had left Violet’s mind as she stooped down to the little crying kit and asked “Hey there, what’s the matter?”

The little ghost bunny stopped, seeming to notice us for the first time, and then she replied in her tiny voice, “I got lost.”

“You’re lost?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded, slowly getting up from the ground, clutching her little pumpkin candy-pail tightly in her paws. “I-I was following my big brothers an’ sisters, an’…” Trailing off, her head jerked around, like she was still hoping she’d spot her siblings. “I… I only looked away for a moment an’… an’ t-they were gone.”

The way her voice started to choke up a little gave me the impression she was going to start crying again, so I said to her “You can come with us.”

Violent looked like she wanted to give me the stink-eye, but TV specials with friends or not, Violet could never ignore a child in need, and it was written all over her face.

“Yeah…” Violet sighed. “We have a few more houses left until we’re back home. How about you come with us, we’ll get some more candy together, and when we get to our house, you can call for your parents to pick you up. Okay?”

We could only see the girl’s eyes through the holes cut into the sheet, but they perked right up at our offer to help and she nodded enthusiastically.

Not wanting her to get lost again, I offered my paw to her, and I didn’t think much of it at first, but the moment she took hold of it, Jeffy let go of my other one and rushed ahead to take Violet’s instead. I just thought he was acting childish about sharing me with some stranger.

I really didn’t see anything strange about this encounter at all.

From then on, the rest of the night out went as well as any other Halloween. The Coursers gave out homemade candied apples. The Brersons had pumpkin gumballs. The Thumpertons…

Ugh.

They gave out those free mints you’d get from the front counter at Cuddy’s Diner. Honestly, I don’t know why we bothered coming every year if THEY wouldn’t bother buying real candy.

…Sorry, getting off topic.

In the end, we all had a good time after all; Violet stopped huffing about missing things, and our new friend was giggling and skipping along with us as we went from door to door, collecting sweets.

Soon we arrived back home, baskets and sacks full of goodies, with our parents waiting for us on the front porch.

Jeffy, Tilly and Dot rushed inside to count and swap candy with everyone else, while me and Violet stayed behind with our friend, asking for the portable phone.

“Gonna call your friends to let them know you’re still coming over, huh?” Dad mused, getting up from his chair. “Well I guess you’re free to go out now…”

“Actually Dad, it’s so our friend can call her parents,” Violet said. “You see, she got lost on Potter Drive, so we helped her--”

“You did what?! Young lady, I told you a dozen times you’re not supposed to go there after dark!”

“But Dad--”

“You’re supposed to set an example for your siblings.” He scolded her. “Maybe you’re not old enough to go out with your friends at this hour after all.”

“But Dad--”

I only watched in silence as Violet followed my father into the house, protesting all the way.

“I know it sounds silly, but your father is right,” my Mom said to me, getting up from her chair and placing her serving bowl of candy on the patio floor. “Potter Drive is much too dangerous at night. You’re too young to remember this, but about seven years ago one of the Woolcotts was driving down that road with his headlights out and had an accident.”

I always remember the sad look in her eyes when she knelt down and placed her hands on my shoulders.

“You see, it was Halloween that night too, and the O’Flopp kits thought they could cut through Potter Drive. Most of them managed to see the Woolcotts’ truck coming and jumped into a ditch to avoid him, but one of the younger ones… Poor darling. They said she just froze in her tracks and… Well… Well me and your father just want you to be safe, okay?”

It was a lot for a kid my age to process at once, so I only nodded dumbly.

“Now then, where’s this friend of yours hiding?”

Her question was so serious and genuine that I just scrunched up my nose and narrowed my eyebrows at her.

What was Mom talking about? She was standing right next to me.

But when I turned to look at the little girl who joined us for the night, no one was there.

All I saw was a single white bed sheet, blowing away in the wind.

 

* * *

 

“The end.”

Judy glanced around the room with an expectant grin on her face, clearly anticipating a shivering audience, but all she got for her efforts was skeptical looks from Nick and Bogo, McHorn texting, and Clawhauser stuffing his face with candy.

Flash was still struggling with taffy-mouth.

“Cute story, Carrots.” Nick snarked. “But maybe throw in a chainsaw or two next time; rev things up at little.”

Briefly folding her arms, Judy huffed with irritation, took out her phone, and buried her nose in the screen, muttering “Oh you bet I’ll scare you next time…”

Nick patted Bogo on the leg. “Okay big guy, you’re up.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because Clawhauser is the only person in the room who’s less scary than Hopps, McHorn is too busy playing Cookie Clopper, and I prefer not to follow such a weak opener. So it’s all up to you now, Chief.”

“Lovely,” Bogo deadpanned.

“Oh, and you better start soon, because if I know Flash and taffy, you have about...” His pointed in Flash’s direction, and right on time the sloth’s neck slowly stretched out and a lump slid down his throat. “Now.”

“The…radio…said a…killer…escaped…from…the…asy…lum…”

“Oh bloody hell. Fine.”

 

* * *

 

For as long as everyone could remember, the daily donut delivery was always left at Clawhauser’s desk, and his mixture of speed and gluttony often resulted in him getting all the good ones before everyone else.

All except for the most coveted donut of them all, the rainbow sprinkled, chocolate-vanilla iced, cherry jam filled donut.

That one was always snatched up by Officer Springs, the fastest antelope on the force.

No matter when they came in. No matter how crowded the lobby was. He always managed to swoop in and snatch it from the box before Clawhauser could even lay a paw on it.

And it drove him batty.

In a way it became a sort of rivalry between the two of them; Clawhauser would try every trick in the book to deny Springs that donut, and without fail Springs would claim his prize.

He almost had a sense of pride in out-thinking Clawhauser, like his entire day was made brighter by just having that doughy delight.

That is, until one day.

“Didja hear, Clawhauser? Springs kicked the bucket last night. Yeah, his ticker gave out. Rumor has it his cholesterol was through the roof. Who’d a thunk it, eh?”

Clawhauser could hardly believe it; someone he knew, saw every day, spent hours thinking about, was suddenly just… Gone.

Gone, and all that remained was that silly little donut that came between them.

When the day’s delivery came in, it was still left sitting alone, as every officer passed on it; possibly out of habit; maybe out of respect for the dead.

Even Clawhauser went through his usual selection, ignoring it.

But eventually temptation would take hold.

No less than an hour before the end of his shift, Clawhauser could barely take the undisturbed presence of it, and after some nail biting and internal debate, he picked it up, and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

It was everything he ever imagined; sweet, sugary, and fluffy.

In a way, it was what victory tasted like for a donut connoisseur like himself.

But as he was shuffling and re-sorting the forms for the night shift desk clerk, he felt a chill run down his back.

“Give me my donut back.”

Clawhauser nearly dropped everything in surprise and looked around the lobby for the source of the voice, but no one was there, so assuming it was just his imagination, he went back to work.

“Give me my donut back.”

This time the papers flew out of his paws and scattered across the desk. Not only was he certain he didn’t imagine it this time, but he now recognized it as the very voice of the late Officer Springs himself.

“H-hello?” He nervously called out, wondering if this was maybe all an elaborate prank. “O-Officer S-Springs?”

But no one was there.

He started to wonder if maybe it was just guilt getting to him. After all, he could have just as well waited for tomorrow or the next day to claim the one from the next batch. He could have waited a little.

Yes. Guilt. That must have been it.

Feeling a little more reassured, he started to gather up the papers he fumbled, still thinking about how his mind was an unpredictable place, when that cold feeling crept up his spine again.

“Give me my donut back!”

He didn’t bother calming himself down this time; Clawhauser tossed the stack of forms aside and bolted out the front door in a panic.

He Rushed all the way home, constantly looking behind his back, not quite sure what he should be expecting and not quite sure if he wanted to see an origin to the voice at all, prank or not.

As soon as he entered his apartment, he locked the door and windows, hoping to hide away from whatever it was that called after him.

It was around when he was about to block the door with a chair that he stopped, and started to feel a bit silly.

There couldn’t be some specter after him.

It’s impossible.

Stupid.

Ridiculous, even.

“GIVE ME MY DONUT BACK!”

The voice boomed from the other side of his entrance, causing him to hurriedly press the chair against the doorknob and immediately flee to find safety behind his couch.

The door began to bang and shudder, like someone was battering the door with a hammer.

Or hooves.

“GIVE ME MY DONUT BACK!”

The banging grew louder and louder.

“GIVE ME MY DONUT BACK!”

The angry noises were becoming too much for Clawhauser to bear, so he did the only thing he could think of and shouted “Y-you can’t have it back! I already ate it!”

And with that, everything went silent.

For what felt like hours, he sat there, waiting for the noise to resume, but everything remained still, so he slowly emerged from behind his couch, creeping to check the peephole to see if someone was still outside.

But before he could reach the entrance, the chair braced against it flew away with some invisible force, and the door swung open violently, revealing the dark figure of the later Officer Springs.

“Give me my donut back.”

Clawhauser dropped to his rear end, and tried to scoot away, but Springs slowly advanced towards him, coming closer.

“Give me my donut back.”

And closer.

“Give me my donut back.”

And closer.

“Give me my donut back!”

Before he knew it, the phantom of Officer Springs was looming over him, and everything went dark.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious, but when Clawhauser came to, the sun was starting to rise outside, and there was no sign of Springs. Even the door was closed and the chair sitting right where it belonged.

Was it a dream? A nightmare caused after years of obsessing over that donut?

Standing back up, he suddenly felt a pain, and a funny itch, just above his belt-line, right around his lower stomach. At first he passed it off as just regular muscle pain, but it started to grow more and more intense until he couldn’t resist checking anymore and yanked up his shirt.

Running across his belly was a crudely cut and stitched incision.

 

* * *

 

“And it was then that he knew it wasn’t a nightmare, and Springs finally got his donut back.”

“I, ah… I think I just lost my appetite,” Clawhauser murmured aloud, but seconds later he was already popping another candy bar in his mouth.

“Snore!” Nick scoffed, making an exaggerated yawning motion with his paw. “I think I read that one in the Junior Ranger Scouts Camping Companion book when I was a kid.”

“Oh, where you in the Scouts?” Bogo asked sarcastically. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“News to me,” Judy mockingly added in.

“How did that work out for you?” McHorn asked impassively; still staring at his phone. “I bet you were very popular.”

“Are we pretending he doesn’t bring this up on a weekly basis?” Clawhauser innocently questioned the room as he unwrapped yet another piece of chocolate. “Is that what we’re doing now?”

“‘Do…you…hear…that?’…she…asked…‘It…sounds…like…something…is…scratching…the…door…’”

“Alright, everybody shut up,” Nick growled, waving his paw in the air to ward away the barrage of ribbing and snide remarks.

It was one of the rare occasions where he couldn’t take what he dishes out. And the smug little grin Judy gave him as she went back to tapping away on her phone wasn’t making it any easier.

“If it’ll get you guys to drop it, I’ll go next, alright?” Nick scanned the room for a moment, collecting the succession of nods everyone gave him. “Alright…”

 

* * *

 

Todd was always a difficult young fox when it came to bedtime. Slow to get changed, troublesome to have brushing his teeth, and always stalling with bedtime stories.

But worst of all was that nearly everything that could possibly scare him when the lights were out did.

The creaking of the floors, wind against the windows, shadows in his closet, you name it and it’ll have been the cause of him hopping out of bed in the middle of the night, running for his mommy.

And every time it happened, the results were always the same; he’d step into the doorway of his mother’s room, and ask to sleep with her for the night, which she would always end up allowing, since she learned long ago that she was more likely to get a good night’s sleep if she didn’t bother arguing with him.

And so it was on this night that when she woke up, sensing the presence of her son, she was unsurprised to see him standing there by her doorway, shrouded in darkness.

“Mmn… Did something scare you honey?” She asked, struggling to open her eyes.

Her son didn’t respond; he just stood there quietly, but she was too tired to be bothered by his silence.

“Okay,” she cooed, tossing over her blankets to invite him into bed with her. “Hop on up, sweetie.”

Her son slowly shuffled across the floor towards her bed-- Quite unlike the usual dash he would make on other nights, but she figured that even when spooked, her little boy can still be too tired to move quickly.

Once the tiny figure had crawled into bed with her, she flipped the covers back over them and cuddled up to her little boy, who was still as quiet as a church on Monday.

Even holding him seemed a little bit off, like his body was stiffer than usual, and the way he was breathing seemed shallow, and raspy.

She was beginning to wonder if he had maybe gotten a cold, when she suddenly heard a slight creaking noise come from the entrance to her bedroom.

She raised her head a little off the pillow to get a better look at the source of the noise, and saw standing there by the doorway was the figure of her son.

“Mommy, I think there’s someone in our house.”

The raspy breathing from under her covers started to grow louder as she frantically threw off her sheets, revealing--

Hey, is that someone’s phone?!

 

* * *

 

“One second,” Bogo grunted, tapping his phone. “It’s the building super texting me…”

“Well tell him he just ruined my story!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll make sure he apologizes for interrupting your big reveal that she was in bed with a perverted possum… Huh.”

“What’s up, Chief?” Judy asked, putting away her phone. Nick shot her a withering look when it occurred to him she wasn’t even listening to his story.

“Oh, well it looks like the super is in the basement, but he’s out of fuses, so he wants to know if I can run down a spare.” Bogo then grinned at Nick. “Be a darling, get one from the kitchen cabinet and take it down to him, will you?”

“What? Why me?!”

“You wanted him to apologize, didn’t you?”

“Ugh.” Nick hopped off the couch in a huff and made his way to the cabinet to grab a box of fuses. “Fine. Anything to get movie night back on track…”

The halls of Bogo’s condominium were dark and barely lit by the sparse placement of emergency lights; providing just enough light to keep you from walking into a wall. But this was barely a problem for a fox with night-vision like Nick.

Strutting down the hall with a whistle on his lips, he tossed the box of fuses up into the air a few times, with barely a care in the world.

“Eh, Bogo guessed the ending anyways,” he thought out loud. “The sooner we get the power going, the sooner we can cut it with this amateur hour.”

With another toss of the box, he snickered to himself.

“Ghost bunnies. What a load, Carro--”

Suddenly he heard something in the distance, distracting him from the falling fuses, bringing the box crashing to the floor, spilling out its contents.

Crying.

Nick tensed up for a moment, but then shook it off as the sound faded away. This was a big building, probably just one of the families’ kids getting scared about the power outage, nothing more.

As he hunched over to scoop up the scattered fuses back into the box, the crying returned, but this time he just ignored it, knowing better than to let Judy’s silly story unsettle him any further.

But it did sound a bit closer this time.

Closing the lid, Nick rose back up and barely took another step forward when his eyes focused on an unexpected sight down the hall that caused him to leap backward, fumbling the box out of his paws.

Standing at the end of the hall, holding a little pumpkin candy-pail, was a little crying child in a bed sheet ghost costume, with long ears poking up underneath the cloth.

Not quite sure what to make of the situation, Nick started to back away, but the ghost bunny slowly advanced towards him; its crying growing louder and more distressed.

With his attention fixed on the shambling spectre, Nick accidentally stepped on one of the fuses and fell flat on his tail. The ghost’s pace started to pick up at this moment, shuffling quicker and quicker towards him, arms outstretched, paws grasping at Nick’s direction, its wailing growing louder and louder.

In a panic, Nick tried to crawl away from his pursuer, flailing his paws in the air to ward it away as he made little yelps of a fear, but he suddenly hit something big blocking his escape.

A wall?

He was sure there was more hallway behind him, so he quickly reached a paw behind his back, still gaping at the advancing ghost, and his fingers wrapped around something narrow and covered in fabric.

Legs?

Tilting his snout up, Nick found himself being stared down at by the smirking face of Chief Bogo.

“Boo.”

The hallway erupted into laughter, and Nick then noticed Judy, Clawhauser and McHorn were standing behind the chief, clutching their sides in mirth.

“Oh man, you shoulda seen the look on his face when he first saw me,” a familiar baritone voice rumbled from under the ghost costume, which was promptly thrown off, revealing that Nick’s assailant was none other than his former partner in crime, Finnick.

“Tell me you got when he tripped,” Clawhauser chortled at McHorn.

“Got every last moment on night-vision mode,” McHorn guffawed, tapping away at his phone. “You’re going viral tonight, Wilde!”

Judy offered Nick a paw to help him back to his feet.

“I told you I’d scare you next time,” she said with the biggest grin he’d ever seen on her tiny face. “Thanks for coming over on short notice, Finnick.”

“Any time, Toots. You know I can’t resist a chance to play this fool.”

Nick just quietly glared at everyone, not enjoying being made the crowning moment of entertainment for the night.

Well, almost everyone.

Sitting alone in Bogo’s living room, Flash lazily raised a piece of candy-corn to his mouth.

“And…hanging…from…the…door…was…a…bloody…hook.”

“The…End.”


End file.
